Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (24 page)

“You’re the confident one. The sexy one,” I retorted. “You know exactly what you want and you go for it.” I pulled his mouth to mine, sucked in his lower lip as he had done to me.

I felt his cock, which was resting between my legs, twitch which caused my insides to clench again, or maybe still from that oral orgasm. I bucked my hips gently at him, signaling that I wanted him. A warm smile spread over his face. He reached over to the small bedside table, opened the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms. I should have stopped him there. The fact that he had a big box of condoms should have stopped me cold, but it didn’t. I was impossibly greedy. He wrestled one free and I, ever the impatient one, grabbed at it, ripped the foil open, slid the slippery ring from the square and reached between us. Finding his solid erection, hot and pulsing, I gave a few strokes.

“Sweets, I’m not gonna last if you do that.” I smirked at him and slowly worked the latex over his shaft, then positioned the head at my entrance. “You are incredible,” he whispered.

“You make me that way,” I said back. Slowly he sank into me as I wrapped my legs around his hips. I tried to watch his face as he did, his achingly exquisite face. He bit his lip and whimpered. But somewhere along the way, my eyes fluttered closed as he fully seated himself in me. Once fully in, we both breathed a sigh of ecstasy.

He pulled back slowly, then thrust back in again sharply, forcing me to suck in life saving oxygen. His long, slick thrusts drove me straight to oblivion. With a rhythmic and measured pace, Chase worked us slowly up to the point of no return. That pinnacle of not having a care in the world, only pleasure surrounding you. I felt a peace and excitement. Opening my heavy lids, I looked at Chase watching me. I opened my eyes further and our ‘windows to the soul’ connected with an unrelenting bind. Then, without command, without communication, I came—hard, shuddering, and tears filling my eyes. When he’d felt my arrival, he let go and grunted his release. I dare say that tears reached his eyes as well.

A
fter Chase was all primped and outfitted and on set, I took a chair and pulled my phone out of my purse, finally ready to tackle the device that had been buzzing in my bag the entire morning. Sure as shit, there were dozens of Tweets with my handle of @PhoebeFair and the #ChaseSmythesGirl hashtag, as well as a few others like, #ChaseSmythesGirlIsBaaack and #ChaseSmythesGirlRound2. The pics attached were just an hour old from when we got out of the car—Chase kissing my nose and the two of us walking hand in hand. But instead of being humiliated at these photos, my heart swelled. I
was
Chase Smythe’s Girl. I had no idea how we were going to make this work, but he wanted to make it work. And, surprisingly, so did I. So much for a Single Summer.

The shoot went smoothly. Chase was making the director pretty damn happy today. I smiled, feeling somehow responsible. In between scenes while the crew was setting up for the next set of takes, Chase would come over and sit with me, not the other actors or fans waiting on the sidelines for autographs and selfies. Finally, the last scene before breaking for dinner was set up. The crew backed away from the set, and I directed my focus on Chase again. The actress he’d been playing opposite, Nicole Brooks playing the character ‘Lauren,’ was now on set with him. She was his love interest for the show and I felt a stupid wave of jealously wash over me. The director chatted with the two then called, “Action!”

I watched Chase, as ‘Detective Hudson Young’, take a hold of the actress’s hands and I struggled to check the insecurity.
This is his job. He’s acting. Nothing to be jealous over.
I told myself.

“It’s all because of you,” he said after a few moments.

Nicole/Lauren lowered her head. Chase, or Detective Young, placed a finger under her chin and raised her face to look at him.

“You make me a better person,” he continued. “I’d be no where if it weren’t for you.”

My heart stopped. I knew these words. These are the same words Chase used with me that night in the car…the night I let him…
Oh. My. God!

“You give me hope. You give me reason,” he leaned in close to Nicole/Lauren.

My stomach rolled. I felt the bile rise up to my throat. The tip of my nose started stinging and tears filled my eyes. I could barely see though the blur of the water rising.

“Say you’ll give me a chance. Tell me that you think I’m worthy of a chance.”

With those words, I bolted out of my seat, knocking the chair over and raced to the trailers. I heard the director call, “Cut!” just as I stopped running long enough to puke my guts out. I didn’t make it to the trailer though and I heard gasps of horror and coos of concern surround me.

As the heaves turned dry, I was left simply crying. My mind whirled and I was a dizzy mess as I tried to process so much.

The lines—
lines—
he’d used to seduce me. Did he do this with other women? All the women?
Dana?
The PA that came barreling into Valerie’s office that first day? I’d been played in the worst way. God, I was stupid!! The heaves started again.

Hands rested my shoulders, then
the voice. His
voice. “Hey, are you okay?” I stood violently, ripping myself from his touch.

I stepped back from him and pinned him with my embarrassingly teary face. “Get the
fuck
away from me.”

“Phoebs. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I said
Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me!”
I pushed my hands through my hair, catching on the vomit that had hit my locks—left down because Chase liked my hair that way. I looked at my hand disgusted, not just at the puke, but the whole fucked up situation.

“Sweets,” he hushed, “you’re not feeling well. Come to my trailer. Let’s talk. You could use a shower. There’s one in my trailer. C’mon,” he said, reaching for me.

“Don’t you dare! I hate you! I can’t believe you did that to me!” I growled through a clenched jaw. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to spit in his face.

“Did what? What are you talking about?”

My eyes bugged out.
Was he kidding?!
“You asshole! You fucking, sonuva—”

Quickly, Erika, one of the women production assistants came to us. “Hey, let’s take this somewhere private.” She turned me to face her, “It’s okay, I’ll stay with you.” I looked at her like some kind of wild beast. She bobbed her head to the side and behind her. I looked to where she’d directed me. Crowds and paparazzi were all getting an ear, and eye, full of juicy gossip. More than a handful of SmartPhones were trained on me, no doubt collecting the latest Vine Video that would go viral. Then the crowd started to swirl, my ears pounded with my heartbeat. I felt my knees buckle and my world went black.

I
f watching her get sick wasn’t scary enough, watching her get mad,
so
mad that she fainted, was down right terrifying. I caught her easily before she fell, and carried her to my trailer. While I sat and held her hand, her delicate, frail hand, my heart raced with panic for her. She was mad at me, but I couldn’t figure out why. I told her that I wanted a relationship with her. I thought we were starting something. Something
real.

It took some pleading, but I had Erika get me a couple of wet washcloths. First, I cleaned the puke out of her hair. Then I set the second cloth on her forehead. Slowly she came to. Her eyes opening set my heart on fire. Her clear, sky blue peepers shone through her eyelashes. She was going to be fine. At first, when she saw my face, she looked confused, then…her expression grew dark. Then, she slapped me—hard!

Fuck that hurt!

“W
hat the hell, Phoebe!” he spat.

What the hell? What a piece of work!
I sat up and looked him square in the face. “You have to be kidding me! You are such a mother-fucking-cock-sucking-sonovabitch! So tell, me
Chase,
” I said, gritting his name with as much disdain as I could muster. “Do you use lines you’re about to film on
all
the girls that you’re trying to fuck?”

I watched his confused face fall with understanding. “Oh,
that,
” he whispered, and ran his hand through his hair. I really wished he would stop doing that. His hair was one of my biggest weaknesses. I looked around the space. The space we’d been in only hours before. Fucking like crazy rabbits. Hell, the place still
smelled
like sex. “Look,” he started.

“No.
You
look!” I started, pushing wet hair out of my face.
What the…?
“I am not a toy. I’m not some fangirl. I have a job. And I was doing a good job at it. Now you’ve gone and fucked it all up!”

“So, this seems… private. I’m just gonna…go. Yeah…” Erika said, slipping out of the trailer.

Once she closed the door, the silence was oppressive. Chase sat there looking at me. I could practically see the cogs in his head turn. What was he trying to come up with to make anything about this scenario acceptable? Well, no matter
what
he said, it wouldn’t be enough.

“The man with the gift for gab is silenced, huh? Fascinating,” I huffed. Had I really shut him up? Had no one called him out on this before? Or was he just looking for a line from another show or movie he’d filmed?

“You want the truth?”

“As if I’ll believe a word coming out of your mouth,” I said. And looking at his mouth, his full lower lip, I felt my body betray me with a tingling of want and need.

“Okay, true…” he croaked. “What I said the other night was from the new pages you handed me,” he paused. A look of total guilt blanketed him right down to his hands, which now scraped at imaginary dirt under his nails. “Not like you’ll believe me… but when I read the—”

A knock on the trailer door interrupted Chase’s uncomfortable confession.
Shit.
I got some sort of sick little joy watching him squirm.

“Paramedics,” I heard from the other side of the door.

“Good idea!” Chase said, jumping up from his seat to open the door.

In walked Erika with an overweight, middle-aged guy wearing an EMT jacket, carrying a small orange toolbox with a red plus on it and the word EMERGENCY KIT.

“Miss Fairchild?” he asked me, his warm eyes looking me over. His gaze was pulled away as Chase sat back next to me and picked up my hand.

I gritted my teeth and pulled my hand from him. “Yes, I’m Phoebe. But I don’t need any medical attention.”

“My name is Marc, and sorry, Miss, but it’s required when someone passes out on set.”

“Liability insurance, and all,” Erika finished.

“Sir, if I may?” the paramedic said, asking Chase to move with a nod of his head.

Begrudgingly, Chase got up and stepped back. The paramedic took his seat and lifted my wrist searching for my pulse, and watching his wristwatch. He nodded, then opened his toolbox and pulled out a blood pressure cuff. He placed the cuff around my upper arm and did what he had to do.

“Well, your pulse is a bit more rapid than I’d like, and your blood pressure is fairly high,” he started.